


Red & Blue

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Category: Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Post break-up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: It had been six months since you saw your ex. You weren't quite ready for your grand reunion at the premiere of your new movie.





	

It had been six months since you and Sebastian broke up, and you hadn’t seen him since. Tonight was the big night.

A pang of nerves hit you in the gut as that reality sunk in when you were slipping into your heels, ready for the premiere of the film you had both worked on when your relationship fell apart. He was the star, of course. You just worked in hair and make up.

You were a bundle of anxiety, but you were also stubborn enough to promise yourself that you would show him just how much better off you were without him. You repeated this like a mantra as you left your hotel room. When you were in the lift, and in your car. And when you arrived. But your resolve waned ever so slightly when he arrived.

You shuffled your way along the red carpet towards the rest of the production crew in the marquee.

It was a futile effort to ignore him. You gave yourself away by constantly looking back over your shoulder in his direction as he pouted and posed. Unbeknownst to you, he had already spotted you too in your new red dress and your waterfall of luscious curls fit for the silver screen. He was already overcome with the determination to see you, to apologise for wronging you and, most importantly, to get you back.

When he arrived at the marquee - with his long slicked back hair and his dark blue suit - the cast and crew greeted him warmly. Everyone greeted the great Sebastian Stan warmly wherever he went. You knew the truth though, you knew he was a jealous, insecure piece of shit.

This was another thing you told yourself as you sank another glass of champagne by yourself at the buffet table. You saw him weave his way through the crowd, doling out handshakes with forced laughter and fake smiles. Occasionally, though, he would glance longingly over to you. It made you sick after a while. He really was laying it on thick. Your turned away. You couldn’t look at him any more.

And then you felt his hand on your shoulder; even before he spoke, even before you turned around, you knew it was him. Your heart sank. You just wanted a nice evening.

“You look absolutely divine, my love,” he drawled, moving into view, “it’s been far too long.” It was his first, real smile of the night, and it was all because of you.

“Not long enough,” you muttered, rolling your eyes at him.

His hand moved fluidly down your arm to your hand, raising it to his mouth and kissing it while giving you a remorseful look: “Don’t be like that. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? Hm?” His voice made you melt. And you always did love it when he wore blue.

The ushers began making the rounds as the showing was about to begin. You thanked your lucky stars you wouldn’t have to see him again until the end of the night. With that, he was whisked away, glancing back at you with one of his smirks. At last, a sense of calm fell over you.

That was until you were escorted your spot in the audience, right next to your ex. “I think this might be the wrong seat,” you argued, “see the crew are over there.”

The usher shrugged, comparing your invite to the name tagged to the seat, “it’s got your name on it, it’s your’s.” He was gone before you could say anything more.

The dread welled up inside you as you remembered how petty Sebastian was at times, taking your place next to him. His eyes were fixed forward, pretending not to notice you. “What the fuck is this?” you quietly snarled in his ear.

The lights dimmed and he shifted his entire body to face you. “I just really wanted my best girl beside me for this,” he whispered.

His words had you utterly torn. One part of you was still mad at him for accusing you of cheating on him with his co-star. The other part so desperately needed him back; desperately wanted to forgive him. You couldn’t find the words. When you didn’t respond, Sebastian sank back into his seat, taking in the film.

You unenthusiastically viewed the movie while your mind wandered elsewhere to the man beside you. Halfway through, Sebastian was equally distracted. Your eyes met for a split second. All the time you had known him, you always felt like he was peering into the depths of your soul when he caught you looking at him. And this was no different. He took your hand again, lacing your fingers together, squeezing them tight. He leaned into you, his breath on your neck giving you goosebumps. “You always looked beautiful in red,” he said in hushed tones.

You ignored his attempt at flattery and kept your eyes trained on the movie, your cheeks becoming as red as your dress.

Another twenty minutes had passed when Sebastian spoke to you again. It broke you this time. It wasn’t necessarily upsetting you. It just chipped away at your resolve to not take him back. And you hated yourself for it. “Look, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He really was, genuinely, sorry.

But you’d had enough. The chink in your armour was too much. You rose to your feet and hastily made for the exit, through the lobby and into the bathroom. You weren’t upset. Just furious with yourself.

You hated his dark blue suit, his slicked back hair, his smug smirk, his words. Everything. It all spun through your mind as you paced back and forward in front of the mirror. You were just a stitch away from letting Sebastian and his insecurity back into your life. You were incensed at the thought.

Deciding you were done for the evening, you took a few deep breaths and pushed the door.

Out in the quiet, deserted lobby of the theatre, you thought you were alone. It felt like an amniotic bubble around you. All reality was completely distorted; much like how it feels to sleep in an airport, having the announcements cut through your slumber. Or driving at night along an empty road and seeing two headlights coming from nowhere. You could almost feel him scramble to his feet as you wandered towards the exit. But it was that warm, familiar hand on your shoulder that made your turn back around.

“Please don’t go,” Sebastian begged.

And then the floodgates opened. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but I’m not having it. The length you went to when you thought I was cheating on you. All the sneaking around, keeping tabs. You think I never noticed? I almost wish I had fucked him!”

You always brought out the worst in each other as Sebastian’s pleading turned into a roar, “It’s all the fucking same!”

And then you both realised the film had finished. The silence. Then the shuffling of feet. It cut through the bubble around you both.

“We can’t do this here,” Sebastian said, returning to his usual calm demeanour. He started towards the door and you followed, camera flashes illuminating your path. You both bundled into one of the waiting cars. You missed the crowd by a margin of seconds. You were alone at long last.

You sat side by side with your ex on the way back to your hotel. You had finally crumbled and caved. You stared at the roof of the car, feeling Sebastian’s gaze on you. You closed your eyes and told him exactly what was in your head. “You know, darling, I don’t know why you got so worked up. I really don’t. I saw his package,” you smiled, “and there’s no chance he could ever fuck me quite the way you used to.”

You really hoped those words didn’t fall on Sebastian’s ears. You wished they had just been cast out into the void. But your ex heard them loud and clear. His stoic expression turned into a look of devilish delight at this unexpected breakthrough.

He shifted closer to you, a little too close, but you couldn’t help but lean into him. “I think you still need more convincing,” he smirked, his hand resting on your thigh. That was all it took.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” you asked, slowly pulling him even closer by his tie until he was almost on top of you, your legs around his waist.

Sebastian had you pinned. He dragged this thumb over your lower lip, smudging your lipstick. Never once did he take his eyes off of yours; he made you wait.

“You said it yourself, my love,” he said, pressing more of his weight onto you, “no one could ever fuck you the way I did.”

It was just like old times; the fights concealed from prying eyes and all the glorious making up you did on the way home. This was what you stuck around so long for.

Your lips found your way to his neck from pure muscle memory, smearing a crimson trail along his jawline. His hand found its way to your locks, ripping you away from him just as a groan was on the verge of escaping him.

“I’m gonna show you exactly who you belong to.”


End file.
